


Come Back Home

by NoSanaNoLife



Category: TWICE (Band)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 07:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17597054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoSanaNoLife/pseuds/NoSanaNoLife
Summary: Twice landed themselves a permanent place in Kpop history, with their catchy songs and unparalleled success. They've begun to branch off and pursue other interests, while still remaining a powerhouse group. But what happens when one of the members finds herself in a situation where she isn't able to return? What will she and the rest of Twice do?





	Come Back Home

“What do you mean she’s not coming home?!”

This was their leader, Twice’s Jihyo, raising her voice in a room full of JYP higher ups. The normally calm voice of reason was angry because the reasons given were unacceptable. The other members sat beside her, shellshocked.

Due to some political issues between China and Korea, the former had decided to cut as many ties as possible with the latter nation. This change in relationship has cut trade agreements, collaborative territorial treaties, and travel between the two countries. People of Korean descent were no longer allowed in China, and vice versa, effective immediately.

Which left Tzuyu, the Taiwanese member of Twice, stuck in China and unable to return to Korea. It wasn’t just a matter of Twice not being able to perform together. Tzuyu literally could not return to Korea for the time being. To return to them.

The JYP executives tried to explain the situation to the best of their abilities. Even if they could get Tzuyu to return home through some roundabout set of itineraries, they were worried of losing their foothold in China. Tzuyu should stay to keep Twice in the spotlight in China. She could pursue solo activities and develop her career there. This was the plan to begin with. It was unfortunate that the group’s long awaited comeback would have to be pushed back, but all the members had their own solo pursuits anyways. They could wait. Jackson and other Chinese idols were already doing the same. They said this was the best option for the company and the group.

Jihyo didn’t care. Was this the best option for Tzuyu? She continued to attempt to change their minds, backed up by Sana and Nayeon. But all of the women already knew that at the end of the day, JYP cared more about their stockholders than their artists.

Twice left the office without any deadline for Tzuyu’s return. They felt like they left without a part of themselves.

…

After breaking so many records and reaching new heights, Twice had eventually reached the climax of their road to the top.

Kpop is cyclical. A group’s achievements and legacy can never be erased. But new always trumps old, and even the legendary Twice could not stop the eventual tide of new fans, hungry for the next big thing, and new girl groups that were gunning for their spot as the nation’s girl group. Between JYP focusing more on their rookie groups, and the members tiring and wanting to explore other career options, Twice reduced its group activities. They were still successful and easily filled up domes when they toured together. But now the members were only having comebacks once a year, and focusing on other endeavors.

And that was how Tzuyu had ended up alone in China, without her members, when the news broke out.

The news had shaken Tzuyu. This trip was meant to quickly meet some people and discuss what her image and activities in anticipation for her Chinese solo debut. Instead, she was now told that the debut was happening now, far ahead of schedule. And she would not be able to return to her friends. When she had asked how long she would have to be on her own, the managers went silent and Tzuyu sighed forlornly.

The moment the meeting ended, she rushed to her apartment and called Jihyo. The leader had answered quickly, and Tzuyu could see the other girls gathering around the phone. And she cried. Tzuyu so desperately wished that she could be in the arms of all her members right now. Though she had been preparing to make a solo debut, she suddenly felt terrified of making that journey without her unnies by her side.

The girls on the other side had realized Tzuyu was crying, and all began shouting and coo-ing encouragements to brighten up the youngest member. Eventually Jihyo took charge, calmed everyone down, and got Dahyun to stop making goofy faces before her face got stuck that way. Once everyone had settled down, the phone was passed from one member to the other, so that each person could do their best to cheer up their maknae.

Tzuyu finally hung up an hour later, and the apartment she had been renting felt incredibly empty. She took another deep breath to compose herself. She ran her hand through her hair while she pondered her next action. Now was not the time to cry. Instead of worrying herself into a bottomless hole, Tzuyu needed to keep moving forward.

Everyone in Twice had promised to keep in contact as often as possible, and if there was anyone she had faith in, it was her unnies. Well maybe not all the time. Sana had sworn to talk to the president, but Tzuyu was pretty sure Sana had never even been to the Blue House.

The tension she was experiencing reminded her keenly of her flag controversy. An innocent mistake that had blown up to an international scandal. She still had some PTSD over the apology video she had to record. It haunted her for a long time, and a small part of her wondered if this was karma for not being apologetic enough.

She shook her head vigorously to ward off the negative thoughts. _The past is the past,_ she reminded herself. Back then, she was just 16 years old and trying to survive. But now, she was in her mid-20s and flourishing career-wise. And the conflict between China and Korea wasn’t even about her this time.

Undoubtedly, Tzuyu was in for some trying times. But she had come out for the better through tougher conditions. This was just another challenge to overcome. She gave herself a small fist pump, and headed to the bathroom to shower. First she’ll clear her head, and then she’ll start the preparations for her solo career in China. _It’s going to be a tough ride_ , she thought.

But she’s traveled tougher roads. 

…

Since they had less frequent comebacks together, the girls were able to branch out and seek their own independent and larger places to call home. But they always agreed to meet up at the home of the School Meal Club, who had continued to live together, because their space was the largest. And as they sat in a circle, the big apartment seemed to emphasize the lack of their tallest maknae.

They had just finished calling Tzuyu, each member taking her time to express support and exchange promises to text and call as frequently as possible. But once the call ended, the reality of the situation weighed heavily on them. They were going to be eight for an undeterminable amount of time.

“Okay,” Jihyo started, gathering everyone’s attention. “I know we are all disappointed at the recent news.” Momo snorted at “disappointed” and Mina lightly slapped her arm to reprimand the older Japanese. “But we knew Tzuyu was going to be spending more time in China to promote there. Logistically, this doesn’t change much aside from our group comeback.”

“Doesn’t change much?” Chaeyoung snarled. “We aren’t Twice if Tzuyu isn’t here! How can you say that? She wants to be here so bad that she’s crying!” The room had gone completely silent with Chaeyoung’s outburst. Nayeon pulled Chaeyoung by the wrist onto her lap, and surrounded her with a hug.

“Chaeyoung please stay calm. We’re all upset. Jihyo’s just trying to do her best to guide us. As she always has.” Nayeon glanced up for affirmation, and Jihyo could see that even the elder had some doubts.

“I’m as concerned and hurt as you are Chaeyoung. But we need to decide what we are going to do about it,” Jihyo rationalized. Chaeyoung muttered a soft apology and Jihyo looked at her fondly. “At least you both are out of school so she doesn’t have to worry about that.”

Jeongyeon then made a joke about Chaeyoung graduating so late and Chaeyoung’s cute whine afterwards helped alleviate the tension in the room.

“Like I said, this doesn’t change too much of our plans. We keep singing, acting, modeling, writing, whatever. We keep killing it until Tzuyu returns. It’ll be just like when you guys went to Switzerland without me to film TwiceTV. I didn’t sit around doing nothing.” Jihyo pointedly ignores Dahyun’s protest about how she was supposed to be doing nothing.

“Except, you know, we came back,” Momo dryly pointed out. “Imagine that we left for Switzerland and then you found out we weren’t coming back. That must be how Tzuyu is feeling.”

Jihyo allowed the hypothetical scenario to run in her head, and immediately felt her mouth dry and her palms sweat from the mere thought of being without her members for such a long time. But she suppressed her fears for the moment. She was the leader. Twice needed leading right now.

“You’re right Momo. Which is why we have two missions as a group. Priority one: we never leave Tzuyu out. Call or text her daily. Update her as often as you can. We’re not leaving her behind in any regard.” The rest of the girls murmured their agreement.

“What’s mission two?” Dahyun asked.

“We don’t let Korea forget who Tzuyu is. Promote her as often as possible. Mention her wherever and whenever we can. So that when she comes back, there won’t be any doubt that we are nine people. Remember all the trouble and fan wars with EXO and Super Junior-sunbaenims about OT12 or OT9 or whatever? I refuse to let that happen to us. We are nine. We are one.”

“Be as one!” Mina excitedly said, and the rest of the members chuckled thinking about one of their older Japanese singles.

“We can’t do much about whatever’s happening between China and Korea,” Jihyo continued. “The only thing we can do is make sure Twice is ready comeback as nine when Tzuyu returns. Mission one is don’t forget Tzuyu. Mission two is don’t let Korea forget about Tzuyu.” Jihyo dramatically put her hand in the middle, indicating that a group cheer was about to happen.

Everyone jumped in excitedly (Jeongyeon had to be dragged by Nayeon into the group huddle). Though they had physically moved closer, each girl couldn’t help but feel the circle was not the right size.

“For Tzuyu,” Jihyo emphatically declared. The other girls enthusiastically contributed their own cheers.

“OT9!”

“Be as one!”

“Twice! Twice! Let’s do it!”

“For jokbal!”

“Momo stop thinking about food for one second and think about Tzuyu.”

“May the force be with us.”

“Jeong you’re such a nerd stop.”

Though they were sharing laughs now, they were all hiding concerns behind their eager smiles. Twice has never faced an issue where a member would be missing for so long. But this was just another adversity on their road together. All of the girls internally swore that Twice would not die here. After all, Twice was all about making comebacks. 

…

And so Tzuyu’s solo debut began.

Her overall tasks weren’t too different from her life as a Kpop star. She was still getting up at ungodly times of the day to film her music videos. She was practicing well into the night to ensure that her choreography was flawless. She still spent many hours repeating lines over and over again to get that perfect recording for her new title track.

But the difference became evident when she has to make decisions.

It starts with a simple request. Her manager asked her what she wanted to eat for dinner. Instinctually she had turned to her side, but none of her members were around to suggest meals. She tended to eat the leftovers of the rest of the members, but now she would have to pick out her own meal. Tzuyu stuttered a bit but decided on some hopefully non-greasy fried rice (it was).

Soon, Tzuyu began encountering various decisions that she had never really given any thought. The company started asking her to prepare some opening statements for her showcases. Tzuyu was used to keeping quiet while Jihyo or Nayeon handled those. There was no one to keep her aware of her schedule, and she had found herself on several occasions scrambling to get ready in time.

At first, she expected that she would at least have easier times on deciding things about her songs and performances now that there weren’t nine voices all introducing competing ideas. But instead, there was a pressure that her decision _had_ to be the right one. There was no one to debate her on the fine points of facial expressions during the point dance or the inclusion of vibrato in her high note.

Not having Chaeyoung whine about the use of real instruments or Nayeon grumble about ridiculously long runs of high notes only made Tzuyu nervous that she was missing something important.

Her debut came and went, and it was an exceptionally nervous affair. She went on stage, sang, danced like she had thousands of times before. But she couldn’t shake the thought that she was the sole person responsible for any mishap.

In spite of her misgivings, Tzuyu decided to do a brief live show on the day her debut album would go live. They had given her the option of waiting before her first performance to better gauge reception and make adjustments accordingly. But Twice always had a show on the day of release, and Tzuyu felt she needed the strength of this particular tradition.

During her first showcase, Tzuyu felt herself shaking so much that she felt like she was in Antarctica instead of a hot stage. While she was singing, she forgot to do an ad lib. And she swore that she was smirking instead naturally smiling during the chorus in an attempt to force a particular expression. It felt like a mess and she was brought back to her time at Sixteen, where she couldn’t stop thinking about how her mess ups would ruin her chances.

But when the music stopped and she held her final pose under the bright lights while desperately attempting to get enough oxygen to continue standing, she realized that the crowd was going insane. They were screaming her name and wildly flailing their arms and Tzuyu swore she saw one fan attempt to throw a bra on stage.

Once the showcase was over, it was clear that her album was going to be a smash hit. The reception seemed overwhelmingly positive, and the song quickly began charting as Tzuyu wrapped up. The rest was a blur of bodies and activity and Tzuyu hazily asked her for the support of the Chinese audience and answered questions from the MC of the event.

She finally came back home at 2 AM, exhausted. But she couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly why her heart hadn’t settled down yet. Why she was still trying to catch her breath in spite of the hours since the show had ended. Her brain knew that the debut had gone well, but her body hadn’t accepted it yet.

A phone call pierced the silence that blanketed Tzuyu. She lifted her phone closer to her face, and could see that it was Chaeyoung on the Caller ID.

“Hello?” Tzuyu asked quietly.

“Hey. It’s me. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“If you wanted me to be asleep, why did you call?”

There was a muted pause.

“I just wanted to say I watched the showcase. It was amazing. You were amazing.”

They talked a little longer before hanging up and Tzuyu lied down to rest. It wasn’t until Tzuyu was half asleep that she realized what that feeling was. It was the desperate desire to chase that high of performing. It was the thrill of converting her hard work into success on stage. It was the instantaneous satisfaction of that pressure on her back vanishing.

She felt a weight lift off of her shoulders. And her body finally relaxed. Maybe it was muscle memory. Or maybe it was just a bad habit. But Tzuyu needed Chaeyoung’s acknowledgment to tell her body what her brain already knew.

That showcase was the right decision.

…

Being the leader of a group is never easy. JYP himself had warned her when he and the other members had entrusted her with the role. It was always about putting the members and group before yourself. When there’s something delicious, you give the food to your members first. When there’s a pretty outfit, you let the members get first pick.

Realistically, she thinks she was chosen leader by virtue of her having the longest training period and the most loyalty to the company. Whatever the reason, Jihyo had worn the title with pride and carried out her duties without complaint. She took care of the members, represented them wherever they went, and protected them and their image. She believed she succeeded as the leader, and her happiness and pride grew immensely alongside Twice’s popularity.

But as the years went by, the members learned to stand on their own and began to take on solo endeavors. With minimal events that required them all together, Jihyo found herself unneeded. Sure, she had her own solo songs to work on and she really enjoyed the greater range of genres she had been able to explore. But part of her still felt lost without her members. It was funny how they had looked towards her to guide them when they were disoriented. Now that the members weren’t around as much, she was the one who felt adrift.

To an extent, she was almost grateful for this situation with Tzuyu. It was a horrible thought to have, and Jihyo wanted to slap herself for such a selfish thought. But now she had someone to support, and Jihyo felt like a leader again.

They had been calling almost everyday. Their conversations ranged from feedback on songs to simple assurances. It reminded her of the first year of their debut, where the younger ones would always come to her and ask for advice on how to act, smile, and sing on stage. It was always hectic and Jihyo often had to dig deep in her reservoirs of patience to continue smiling and giving guidance.

But maybe it was the recent lack of necessity for her role, but the sheer amount of conversation they were having was admittedly draining her. Because Tzuyu never seemed to run out of questions anymore.

“…and I don’t even know if I’ll be able to keep track of all the cameras on stage today. Usually I can get away with missing a few cause Dahyun never misses any but…” Tzuyu was rambling about her upcoming showcase today and Jihyo was finding it hard to squeeze in assurance.

“Tzuyu! Relax!” Jihyo eventually interrupted. Tzuyu pouted like a kicked puppy and Jihyo resisted the urge to laugh. “You’re going to do great. You just need to take a second to unwind.”

“I just want to make sure I live up to the standards of Twice.”

“When have you ever not sweetie?” Jihyo softly asked. Tzuyu took another breath upon hearing Jihyo’s motherly tone. It always managed to calm her down.

“There just feels like there’s a lot of pressure suddenly. Now that I’m representing us in China,” Tzuyu ultimately confesses.

“Mmm it really weighs on you doesn’t it,” Jihyo absentmindedly says.

Tzuyu smacked herself in the forehead and Jihyo couldn’t stop the friendly chuckle.

“Unnie, if I had known you were always under this much stress I would’ve…”

“Nope!” Jihyo abruptly shouted, startling the younger woman.

“But I-“

“Nope.”

“Wait let me-“

“No.”

Tzuyu stuck her lower lip out and another laugh slipped out of Jihyo.

“Look, you don’t need to apologize for all the times you asked me for help. I’m the leader. I knew what I was getting into. And you calling me is exactly what a leader is for.”

“Yeah…it’s just that now I can sorta understand you better. And I feel bad for making you put up with my problems when you clearly have plenty of your own.”

“Well that’s true. But I’ve done a pretty good job keeping the group together.”

Tzuyu continued to only get more frazzled on screen and Jihyo was starting to get impatient.

“Oh and I’m probably not helping your workload by being a liability in China.”

“Oh no Tzuyu that’s not true at all-“

“Aish and you have a solo album you’re probably super busy with too. God I need to stop pestering you.”

“Actually I’m always happy to-“

“You definitely don’t need to deal with my problems too.”

“OKAY.” Jihyo snapped, shocking Tzuyu into silence. “Sorry, didn’t mean to yell. You’re rambling and its driving me nuts. I’m always happy to help you. You’re not a problem. Get it?” She glared at her phone and Tzuyu could feel shivers down her spine.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good. Now I’m going to tell you that you’re fine. And maybe you’re right. I don’t need to deal with your problems all the time. Especially when I’m confident you won’t have any. You’re making me proud everyday you’re out there Tzuyu.”

Though her tone had surprised Tzuyu, the younger member smiled at the praise and silently nodded. “Okay. I’m sor…I mean, thanks for the help unnie! You’re right. I’ll focus on performing first and fixing any errors later.”

The two exchanged goodbyes and Jihyo finally hung up. She sighed. Maybe part of being a good leader meant trusting her members to do fine without her. And in reality, maybe she deserved a break from leading this crazy bunch of talented idols. There was nothing wrong with her taking it easy. At least until their next comeback.

Her cellphone suddenly rang and Jihyo rolled her eyes at the caller ID. “What’s up Mina?”

“Hey Ji, can you come over right now? Sana and Momo are trying to cook and I’m worried they’re gonna set something on fire while they fight.”

“I thought you hid all of their pots and pans?”

“Momo found it when she was looking for one of her pairs of yoga pants.” Jihyo could hear the sound of glass breaking amidst Sana’s high-pitch squeals.

“Yeah I’ll be over in five.”

Truthfully, a leader’s job was never done.

…

Tzuyu eventually accepted that there was nothing much that she can do about her current situation. No matter how much she may beg the company or her unnies to get her out (and she definitely didn’t want to attempt to get on the Chinese government’s bad side), nobody was going to get her out any faster.

So she threw herself into her work to kill time. Asked her managers to arrange plenty of interviews, performances, TV show appearances, and anything she can do to get her mind off of things. Being busy had the added bonus of keeping her away from social media, where she could see her members doing things without her. They didn’t mean to, but Tzuyu couldn’t stop the small pricks of jealousy in her heart when she saw her members together without her.

After all, Tzuyu had given her word to her unnies that she would be fine. The last thing she wanted to do was cause trouble. So she worked diligently. There was still a lot for her to work on: she was still getting over her shy character, and her dancing and singing had never been the best in the group. But the slight amount of controversy over her presence was enough to get her foot in the door. Soon she had plenty of projects to distract her.

But the distractions ended up making her forget about other things. Like sleeping. And eating. Within two months, Tzuyu had ended up hospitalized briefly for fatigue. She had begged her managers not to let any of the members know about her condition, but they couldn’t stop everyone from finding out. She eventually returned to her apartment, and nervously awaited the phone call scolding she was about to receive from one of the unnies.

Tzuyu didn’t expect Chaeyoung to be the one to call her.

“Hey.”

“Hey Chaeng.”

“So I’m sure you already know what this call is about.”

Tzuyu sighed audibly and she could hear Chaeyoung’s laugh. It only made her long for her best friend’s hug to help with her recovery. She swore nothing healed a heavy heart faster than Chaeyoung hanging off of you like a koala.

“But I’m not going to talk about how dumb it was. You already know.”

“Yeah…but still, tell everyone I’m sorry and that it won’t happen again.”

“Of course. Now why were you overdoing it? Is the reality of the situation that we were holding you back?” Chaeyoung easily reverted to a joking tone and helped Tzuyu ease into a comfortable mood.

“No I…I just needed to get my mind off of things.”

“Were you trying to forget about us?”

Tzuyu’s eyes widened and she quickly sat up as straight as a rod.

“No. Never.”

“Haha okay got it. I was just joking Chewy,” Chaeyoung assured. _This is more of a problem than I thought_. “So then why are you _so_ busy? You know we keep track of all the things you do and even Mina is having trouble keeping up with it all.”

“…I guess I just miss you guys. This forced separation is hitting me harder than I thought I guess.” Chaeyoung hummed in agreement. “And I guess I don’t know what else I can do to make this time go any faster. There’s literally nothing I can do to fix this, so I have to do something to kill time until the people who can fix this do so. I was just hoping if I worked hard enough that somebody would notice and save me.” Tzuyu’s voice trailed off at the end and Chaeyoung wanted nothing more than to hug the taller girl.

“You know that working yourself to death won’t bring you back any sooner, right?”

Tzuyu pouted, and Chaeyoung laughed. “Then what else am I supposed to do until I can come back?”

Chaeyoung sat back and gave it some thought. Tzuyu easily recognized that Chaeyoung was entering her thinking phase, and allowed the girl a minute to gather her thoughts. The two girls just stared at each other silently through their phones. It reminded Tzuyu of how they would relax together back in Korea.

“I think,” Chaeyoung finally started. “You need to worry less about the destination. Trust me, it will come one day.”

“And until then?”

“Until then, try to enjoy the journey. You know the saying: it’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey. Do your best in China. That means enjoying yourself too Chou Tzuyu!”

Chaeyoung attempted to sound more authoritative with her last line. Tzuyu finally laughed at the shorter girl’s attempt at sounding in charge.

“Okay.” Tzuyu conceded. It wasn’t perfect. But Chaeyoung made a convincing argument. There was no point in returning to Korea if they had to wheel her there on a stretcher.

“Okay.” Chaeyoung repeated. “Fighting!” Chaeyoung held out a fist.

Tzuyu mimicked the motion. “Fighting.”

…

As the eldest member of Twice, Nayeon always felt a sense of responsibility over the rest of the members. Even if Jihyo was the leader and the more motherly figure, Nayeon did her best to subtly keep an eye on everybody. She made sure Jihyo had time to herself. She kept Sana and Momo out of trouble during their free days. She dragged Mina out when she hadn’t been seen for at least a day. She made sure the maknae line were healthy and never too stressed out. Even after splitting up more often as the years went by, Nayeon still wanted to watch over her group.

So when Tzuyu became stranded in China, Nayeon felt she had to do something about it. But she’s no politician or superhero. She can’t end whatever conflict these politicians had started over something that probably didn’t matter to the general public. She only had her singing and dancing.

So that’s what she did.

Nayeon was already an ambitious idol, with a few solo albums and many OST contributions. But she decided to kick it up a notch. She began with pestering Chaeyoung more often to write and produce more songs together. She spent more time at the dance studio on some days than even Momo. Her plan was simple: succeed so hard that someone has to notice. That someone will save Tzuyu. One day at the recording booth, she shared her goal with Chaeyoung.

“Unnie you can’t sing away geopolitical disagreements.”

“No I meant more along the lines that I become such a good and famous singer that I get some sort of political influence.”

Chaeyoung looked up from her notebook with a skeptical look. Nayeon gave her a silly face in return and Chaeyoung snickered.

“You know that’s not a terrible idea. Remember when America elected some TV host and businessman to be their leader? You probably can’t do nearly as many terrible things if you were president.”

“Exactly! And he wasn’t even that good looking!”

“Well if anyone can do it, it’s definitely you unnie. You certainly have the voice, the face, and the charisma for it.” Chaeyoung would come to regret her praise when Nayeon almost suffocated her with a hug.

And so began Nayeon’s quest to miraculously gather power by becoming the best singer in Korea. She started by releasing another album in record time. She was able to nab the top spot on several charts, but fell short of achieving a perfect all kill. It was disappointing, but there was nothing to be done. It must be because she hadn’t caught the attention of the general public.

The next phase of Nayeon’s activities meant increasing her variety appearances. Thankfully, Dahyun was able to connect her with some of the prominent MCs and she managed to get a part time hosting gig. It was more outside of her comfort zone, but appearing more frequently on these shows would hopefully grab more people’s attention.

Sure enough, after a month of hosting, the public was enamored with Nayeon. But that meant she had to act quickly to get more material out there before their love waned. So she was back in the recording and dance studios to make new songs and learn new dances.

Her schedule was so packed that she had ended up declining a few of the customary weekly hangouts Twice had. The other members had contacted her with concerns, but Nayeon brushed them aside. She was more tired than ever, but she kept herself motivated by thinking of Tzuyu. She felt like a mother bear protecting her young, and no one could get in her way without facing her wrath.

But there was a reason these things take time, and if fans thought Twice was overworked in their earlier years, they would have been dropping their jaws if they saw Nayeon’s schedule for a few months.

It finally culminated in Nayeon waking up to a concerned Jeongyeon looking down at her. She blinked a few times before slowly getting up into a sitting position.

“Jeong? Where am I?”

Jeongyeon rolled her eyes and frowned. “You’re in the recording studio. I found you literally passed out on the ground with the instrumental of one of your songs blasting in the room.”

Nayeon stood up quickly in shock, but was immediately hit with a dizzy spell. Jeongyeon noticed Nayeon’s unease, and carefully guided the girl to the couch in the room.

“You’re such an idiot, overworking yourself like this. What do you even think you’re doing?”

“I’m just working as usual Jeongyeon. You know I’ve been trying to be like IU for years. This is just what it takes.”

Jeongyeon looked at her skeptically. “You’re not just working hard. You’re running yourself ragged! When was the last time you got some sleep or had a good meal?”

Nayeon put both hands on her head to quell the coming headache. “Can we not have this discussion now? It’s giving me a headache.”

“You wouldn’t have a headache if you rested more!” Jeongyeon stood up and yelled. Nayeon flinched and looked up expecting to see Jeongyeon incredibly upset. Instead, the younger woman just looked sympathetic and worried.

“Look Nayeon, we’re all worried about you. Chaeyoung and Momo have been particularly nervous about how much you’ve been pushing yourself. It’s great that you’re doing so well. But you have to chill every once in a while. This isn’t healthy.”

Nayeon sighed and leaned further onto the couch. She already knew in her heart that she was going too far.

Jeongyeon exhaled loudly and plopped herself next to Nayeon on the couch. Nayeon immediately leaned sideways and placed her head on Jeongyeon’s shoulder. Jeongyeon smiled in response. It was just like their trainee days. In spite of the huge success and trials the two had experienced, being alone together erased everything. It was just two girls taking a breather from the tribulations of life.

“You’re doing this for Tzuyu, right?” Jeongyeon asked in an emphatic manner, and Nayeon knew that Jeongyeon had easily seen through her again.

“You’re so annoying when you do that.” Nayeon teased. Jeongyeon chuckled and pulled Nayeon closer.

“You mean well. But working yourself to death isn’t going to bring her back any sooner.”

“But what else can we do Jeong? She’s alone and scared, and you know how much she hates being the center of attention and she probably is going to forget her luggage somewhere without us and I just am afraid Tzuyu is going to get in trouble on her own,” Nayeon stopped when she finally needed a breath, only to continue her speech.

Jeongyeon listened to Nayeon as she listed all the dangers and unhealthy habits Tzuyu needed to know about. Meanwhile, Jeongyeon focused on rubbing Nayeon’s arm soothingly and nodding at the appropriate times. It was funny how despite being the oldest, Nayeon sometimes needed comfort like she was the maknae.

Nayeon eventually exhausted herself and Jeongyeon took her chance to jump in. “You’re right that there’s a lot of things to worry about. But we raised her pretty well. She doesn’t need to be rescued. She’ll be okay. And you know she’ll call us if anything comes up.”

Nayeon launched herself onto the other side of the couch. “What am I supposed to do now then?” she grumbled.

“We have faith. You know, children have a habit of miraculously finding their way home. Tzuyu will come back to us one day. Just be patient until then Nabongs.”

Admittedly, Jeongyeon was right. In an ideal world she would be storming the Blue House and threatening the president to bring Tzuyu back and her beautiful voice melt the icy hearts of the feuding politicians. But she couldn’t (yet at least). This was going to be a drawn out affair. There was no point in exhausting herself now and accomplishing very little. She’d be back. And Twice will be whole again someday.

Nayeon finally smiled, and leaned on Jeongyeon, ready to nap. “Hey Jeong, if I ran for president, would you vote for me?”

“Hell no!”

…

The people of China eventually came to love her. There were some hurdles to overcome to reach this point: her connections to Korea during this time of tension certainly hindered her initial success. But it’s just too hard to not like the young Kpop star. Tzuyu, despite definitely reaching an age where she can be considered an adult, still had an air of innocence and purity around her that attracted protective fans from any population. In addition, her talent could not be ignored. Years of grueling schedules and practice had honed her into a bona fide singer and dancer.

So Tzuyu soon found herself with a sizable fanbase in China. And it was like she was back in Korea again. The fans screaming her name during concerts, cheering for her during show appearances, and buying anything she endorsed. She had almost recreated her life as a Kpop star.

But sometimes it felt pointless without her members by her side.

She was always touched at fanmeets and concerts, but there was just something so incredibly lonely about being a solo performer. There were many times where she wanted to complain about practice or share a funny comment from a fan. But there was no one next to her. Tzuyu hadn’t realized how hard it was to find people to relate to.

It was funny how her talent and success both brought her swarms of fans and isolated her from others at the same time.

Thankfully her members were always ready to respond to any message from Tzuyu. The benefit of having eight of them was the fact that at least one person was always free and able to console Tzuyu when she got too much in her own head.

Tzuyu would tell them stories about how Chinese fans differed from the Korean ones, and how frustrated she would feel around some of China’s stricter laws and policies. They would in turn tell her all about their activities and end every call with a reminder of their love. It was sweet and Tzuyu couldn’t imagine going a day without one of them talking to her.

But even the rest of Twice couldn’t fathom some of the struggles Tzuyu experienced. And the constant stream of messages couldn’t help when sometimes all Tzuyu wanted was a hug.

There were some days where Tzuyu never left her house. Her free time felt hollow without anybody to spend them with. Her bed became her only comfort and she spent far too much time laying in bed and watching videos of her members’ various solo activities.

Inevitably, her managers started noticing how anti-social Tzuyu had become and how it was starting to affect her performances. Word made its way to the rest of Twice, who had to brainstorm ways to help their youngest.

Finally, Tzuyu was eating dumplings in bed when she got a call from Dahyun. The Chinese girl’s face lit up and she quickly accepted the call. She was immediately greeted by Dahyun making a goofy face at the camera. Tzuyu snorted and both girls laughed together before beginning to discuss their past week’s activities.

Near the end of the call Dahyun asked Tzuyu to be dressed in one hour.

“What?” Tzuyu asked. “Do I have some schedule that I don’t even know about?”

“You do now,” Dahyun teased. Tzuyu pressed her for more information, but the older girl refused to give anymore details and hung up quickly. Tzuyu was taken aback by the Dahyun’s abruptness, but decided that it wasn’t anything worth getting worked up over.

Despite her misgivings, Tzuyu always listened to her unnies. She dressed casually and an hour later, she was waiting in her living room. She suppressed an instinct to jump back in her bed and patiently waited until her doorbell finally rang. She had expected maybe some sort of delivery or package.

Instead, Jackson Wang from GOT7 was standing outside her door, smiling brightly.

“Yo!” Jackson said loudly, and Tzuyu winced a little at his loud volume.

“Um, hi?” Tzuyu gives an awkward bow, not knowing what to do. She remembered Jackson from that one time they filmed a show together, but they hadn’t continued to keep in touch afterwards and they sort of faded back into being acquaintances from the same company.

Jackson waves it off.  “No need to be super formal. I want us to be friends!”

“Um okay? How did you find out where I live?”

Jackson laughed and scratched the back of his head. “Dahyun gave it to me. We’re pretty good friends after hosting Weekly Idol together all those years ago. She called in a favor.”

Tzuyu nodded absentmindedly. She really hadn’t expected to befriend anybody during her time in China. She barely interacted with other people outside of Twice back in Korea too. Normally, she would just smile to be polite, and push away the other person in favor of staying at home.

But some part of her knew that Dahyun would nag her about ditching Jackson and ignoring the kind gesture. Well, one time can’t hurt she supposes.

“Okay. Was there anything else she said?”

Jackson gave her a silly smirk and gave his best Dahyun impression. “Our little Tzuyu is lonely. Could you hang out with her?”

Tzuyu immediately facepalmed. “Oh god, she didn’t say that exactly did she?”

Jackson gave her another cheeky smile. “Word for word.” Tzuyu wanted to jump back in bed and never be seen again, Dahyun’s good intentions be damned. “Come on, I know this great dog shelter nearby. Dubs mentioned you really liked dogs.”

Tzuyu couldn’t stop herself from brightening considerably at the mention of dogs. _He already knows I’m a sucker for dogs and Dahyun already embarrassed me. I guess I don’t have much to lose._

“Okay, let’s go then.” Jackson cheered and led Tzuyu to the shelter. They ended up having an amazing time, with Jackson dialing back his high-energy self upon realizing that Tzuyu was a more laidback person. They bonded over animals and the difficulty in trying to keep in contact with their members in Korea.

It felt really good to finally find someone who understands what Tzuyu was going through. The emptiness that came with being apart from her friends for so long. The sense of responsibility weighing on her to live up to their group’s big name. And the fear of being forgotten and left behind, by fans and members.

Jackson and Tzuyu weren’t solutions to each other’s problems, but they were remedies. Their hangouts increased in frequency, and Jackson even ended up inviting Tzuyu to a group chat filled with other idols. They made plans fairly often, and never pressured Tzuyu to join unless she wanted to. Together, the Kpop idols were focused on creating a comfortable environment when they were missing Korea. It was nice.

Dahyun, during their call next week, was incredibly smug and Tzuyu wanted to smother the older girl’s face with a pillow (especially since Dahyun wouldn’t stop calling Tzuyu’s group chat her “Chinese crew”). But Tzuyu tolerated the jokes and thanked the girl profusely for her initiative.

Tzuyu had found some form of community, and she felt less inclined to spend time in her bed. Now that there were people like Jackson who wanted to see her, how could she waste away her free time in bed?

She still missed her sisters from Twice. But she wasn’t alone anymore.

…

Mina had a reputation as one of the most introverted idols in the business. She rarely said anything during interviews and allowed her more talkative members to take over during any shows. And she had no insecurities about her lack of verbosity. Over the years, she had mastered the art of knowing when her input was necessary and only sought to include herself when she really needed to or wanted to.

Unsurprisingly, Mina had become even more of a homebody in the wake of Twice’s reduced activity. While some members like Sana or Nayeon were out for weeks at a time for whatever they needed to do, Mina found herself with more time to relax and chill. She made sure to stay in the public eye by having at least a few solo songs and of course comebacks with the group. But for the most part, Mina had been relaxing and finally enjoying the fruits of her labors over the past few years of never-ending work.

While Mina tended to spend most of the time binging shows and movies, she had recently picked up a new interest. As the member with the most free time, she had taken it upon herself to follow Tzuyu’s activities online. The maknae had expressed concern over monitoring herself. Of course all the members did their best to keep up with Tzuyu’s important performances and events. But only Mina was willing to binge all of the material. She nicknamed herself “Tzuyu stan” in the groupchat and not even Jihyo could contest Mina’s media consumption.

In some ways, it was exciting for Mina. It was like being a fan again. It brought her back to childhood when she would search the web desperately for Japanese subs about variety appearances featuring Girls’ Generation. Finding subs for Chinese content was pretty difficult, but Mina was an avid fan of free movies and knew her way around the seven seas of the Internet. Soon Mina was on top of all of Tzuyu’s shows and even knew her schedule (Chaeyoung called her a creep, but Mina preferred pseudomanager).

The two of them often texted each other (cause calling meant talking and they were both naturally quiet individuals) to evaluate Tzuyu’s performances and how she could improve. Or Mina just texted encouragement sometimes and small reminders, ranging from staying warm during the winter to reducing her number of “um’s” when talking. Tzuyu was very grateful for the support, and it always helped her calm down when she remembered that Mina was watching.

After spending so many hours of watching Tzuyu content, Mina felt her admiration for the youngest member grow. Tzuyu was constantly working: acting, modeling, singing, dancing, and talking on as many platforms as possible. When she read Tzuyu’s schedule at times, it stressed Mina out just thinking about it. Despite being on her own, Tzuyu kept herself busier than any other member of Twice.

One day she asked Tzuyu how she did it. The younger had a couple of valid reasons. She felt pressure to live up to the legendary reputation of Twice. She wanted to stay in the public’s eye to make sure ONCE wouldn’t forget her. But most importantly, she hated coming home to an empty apartment and remembering that her members were not there. Tzuyu even admitted that she spent all her downtime watching the other members’ activities: Nayeon’s music videos, Sana’s dramas, Dahyun’s variety shows, etc.

“It makes me feel closer to all of you,” Tzuyu had shyly confessed, and Mina felt her heart swell at thought. “I wish there was more ways I can follow you too.”

How could Mina refuse such an innocent desire of their maknae? She wanted to make something for Tzuyu to watch that didn’t involve her committing so much time outside her house. She loved Tzuyu, but she was still the Twice’s homebody. After a while, Mina was ready to throw in the towel and make a guest appearance on Dahyun’s show. Until one day, she had been talking to her brother about new updates to PUBG and he gave her an idea.

A few days, two thousand dollars, and the finest graphics card one could buy later, Mina started streaming videogames on Twitch. At first she shared the link to the groupchat only, and her chat was soon filled with supportive messages from Jihyo, confused requests for tech support from Nayeon, and spammed emojis from Dahyun. Tzuyu couldn’t always watch live, but she always caught the recorded videos. Mina started narrating some of her play and found it was fairly natural. Instead of being stressed about saying the right thing or keeping up with the members or the MCs, she felt relaxed and able to speak at her own pace.

Dahyun and Chaeyoung encouraged her to start streaming some sessions to the public, and she eventually relented. Within a week of starting her public streams, she was averaging thousands of viewers and had even started getting money from subscriptions and donations.

Mina was blown away from the support. Nobody had expected her to attract as big of a following as she did. But streaming strangely fit Mina’s personality. It allowed her to stay quiet and focus on the game, but still communicate directly with her fans. And it was also a lot of fun without having to leave her apartment. Still, no matter how many viewers or how many subscribers she obtained, Mina never forgot who she was streaming for.

She was happy to give more to her fans and viewers. But she was happier knowing that she could make Tzuyu feel a little less lonely.

…

Tzuyu took a deep breath and nearly dropped to the ground in relief when the choreographer announced a five-minute break. She ran over to a corner of the room, and finished an entire water bottle while the backup dancers were spread out and talking amongst themselves.

There was something off to Tzuyu about dancing for a solo song. She was always center. Even when there was asymmetry in the formation, she was still center. Tzuyu, who was always used to spending most of the song by the side couldn’t help but feel very self-conscious whenever she performed. It wasn’t just some fans and dedicated fancams following her every move. Now the entire audience paid attention to only her.

So she had to work even harder to avoid mistakes in choreography. The choreography team performing with her was incredibly kind. The lead choreographer never yelled at her and was perfectly content to explain some of the more difficult dance moves to her. Still, as helpful as he was, Tzuyu couldn’t help but feel it’d go faster if Momo was there to teach her.

She also thought about how Momo would have done this dance more justice, but she files that into the back of her mind. Jeongyeon is always reminding her to keep positive thoughts forward and negative ones in the far corners of her mind. It was her unnie’s way of staying motivated, and Tzuyu had decided to try it out.

Truthfully, Tzuyu felt a bit awkward being the sole star because got used to leaning on the others. There was something comforting about being a member of a large group. The nine girls covered for each other and perfectly complimented each others’ strengths and weaknesses. It’s part of what made the group so popular and successful.

So when she became the constant focus during her solo activities, she started experiencing some anxiety. Sometimes Tzuyu really got inside her own head and wanted nothing more than to hide under her blanket until the day was over. But instead she trudged on, and tried to fake it until she could say she had made it.

Still, she felt doubt, so she reached out to a soloist she greatly admired.

Nayeon acted surprised and spent ten minutes talking about how honored she was. Tzuyu immediately regretted her decision.

After fanning herself in mock embarrassment, Nayeon finally gave her a straightforward reply. “To be honest, I’m a little surprised you feel this way.”

“Oh? You know I’ve always been…a little shy in the spotlight.”

“It’s so true, my baby!” Nayeon made kissing sounds and Tzuyu quickly flipped her phone camera down. After Nayeon stopped, Tzuyu brought the phone back to her face, and saw Nayeon with an innocent smile.

“I’m just surprised because isn’t this why you became an idol?” Tzuyu’s quizzical look encouraged Nayeon to continue. “Isn’t that why we did this from the beginning? To be the center amidst a sea of fans and artists?”

It was such an oblivious answer and Tzuyu could easily tell that Nayeon had never thought too seriously about being a performer constantly in the limelight. But that innocence shed light on something she had buried deep within her mind. It was hidden by the years of training and performing, and covered by her jaded mindset as a veteran.

Wasn’t it every idol’s dream to be amongst friends and fans, whose sole attention was fixated on your every move on stage? Didn’t she once dream of bringing crowds to their feet with her singing? The truth was that she had wanted to be center from the very start. In her pursuit of high standards and treating her dream as a job, Tzuyu forgot the initial reason she pursued a career in entertainment.

Who had time to feel anxious when they were busy living their dream?

Once she recognized that she had always wanted to be center, the anxiety subsided significantly. It still haunted in her on her worst days, but Tzuyu found a simple balance. She compartmentalized the fears in the back of her head, and did her best to bring her love of performing to the forefront. To remind herself that this – capturing everyone’s awe and admiration on stage – was everything she had wanted.

And it most definitely was.

Her musing was interrupted by the choreographer calling for the end of the break. Tzuyu quickly made her way to the middle of the room. They made eye contact through the mirror and he gave her a nod. The backup dancers stood in formation around her. She took a deep breath to calm herself before dawning a serious and confident expression. 

She sometimes thinks she would be happier on the side sometimes. But then she remembers that being front and center is everything she’s ever wanted.

…

It’s funny how despite packing up her belongings and moving to a different country at a young age, she ended up doing the same thing as her older sister. Though she didn’t own a dance studio, Momo was essentially a choreographer with her own students. Only her students were trainees and Korean idols.

While many of the members continued to pursue projects in the public eye, Momo decided to take a step out of the spotlight in favor of teaching and designing choreography for other JYP groups. It was nice that she could fully explore different dances: she could still do the cute, easy-to-follow dances for JYP’s rookie girl groups, but now she was also creating complex and hard-hitting routines for the veteran boy groups.

In her opinion, dance practices were the true battlegrounds for Kpop idols. It was a job that constantly pushed you to the limit, and idol life was truly unforgiving on your health and stamina. That’s why Momo believed in grueling choreography practices. She thought these exercises separated the idols from the backup dancers.

You didn’t know if you would be able to get back up until you were already gasping for air on the ground. 

Of course she still had a passion for performing. But it was mostly limited to a few variety appearances and lots of YouTube videos. JYP even let her start her own channel with tutorials and covers. It was pretty easygoing compared to their earlier days. She sometimes couldn’t believe how far she had come after nearly being eliminated from the group entirely.

As she looked at the current batch of JYP trainees lying on the ground due to their own exhaustion, she remembered the years she spent lying on that same floor. The younger Momo that was so desperately hungry for the spotlight that she would get up at the first call from the choreographer to run the dance again. The long nights where she refused to go home until she earned the title as Twice’s best dancer.

Looking back, she attributed that strength and stubbornness to her need to prove herself. Being an admittedly arbitrary addition to the group didn’t exactly inspire confidence from herself and the public. So she worked tirelessly to distinguish herself, and soon enough neither the fans nor Momo could deny her importance in the group.

And she made the world acknowledge her. With her beloved members by her side, Momo had stood on top of Korea’s idol world. Performances all over the world. Breaking records. She quickly rose from Twice’s best dancer to one of Korea’s top dancers, period. For those years, Twice stood at the center of Kpop’s girl groups and she relished the spotlight. Lived for it for that time.

So it came to the surprise of many, including herself, that she had so readily accepted the diminishing presence of Twice in Korea’s idolsphere. Momo was afraid she wouldn’t know what to do with herself. She had spent so long chasing the limelight that she worried that there was nothing else in the world for her. Dancing on stage was like eating. And everybody knew how much Momo loved eating.

But it was surprisingly okay. She didn’t go crazy after a week, and Sana and Mina put away the comfort jokbal they had prepared in their apartment (Momo still found it and ate them all at once when Mina wasn’t looking). Jihyo hypothesized that Momo’s body was just thankful for the rest after all the punishment. Sana insisted it was just phase and Momo would grow bored and ambitious again.

Tzuyu’s idea ended up being the most salient. “Maybe you’re just…content?” Well it wasn’t the most emphatic but Tzuyu tended to speak unassumingly.

Still, the possibility stuck to her mind. What happened to the insatiable dancing machine that felt so devastated upon elimination from Sixteen? Could she really be satisfied just like that? But when she asked herself that last question, some part of her instantly responded.

_There was nothing “just like that” about what we did._

Idol life was a constant battle for center position. If you spent too much time out of the public eye, your value diminished. People craved a constant stream of content, and they could be unforgiving and forgetful. So for Twice to stay at the center of Kpop for so long was an unprecedented accolade for a girl group. And it took everything out of them to do it.

And maybe Momo was just…content?

It took some introspection and way too many contemplative meals, but she decided that she was satisfied. It wasn’t something that she could easily wrap her mind around. She grappled with many questions. Her members were still out there in the entertainment world to deepen their resumes. Isn’t it bad to not be trying as hard as they were? Is she becoming too lazy and resting on her laurels?

Unsurprisingly, the only person who could understand was the other person who also spent most of her time unengaged from idol life.

“I think we’re allowed to be satisfied,” Mina had simply said. Momo was lying with her head hanging off Mina’s bed while the younger Japanese played Overwatch. “You’re not Nayeon. You’re not Jeongyeon. You’re not anybody else in the world. You don’t have to match anyone anymore. We’re not competing to debut anymore.”

“Yeah…it’s just strange you know? To back down from something I’ve worked so hard for.”

“Yeah, but you did it, right? We worked hard and we made it.”

Momo flipped herself right-side up, and hummed in agreement. Mina briefly glanced over upon hearing the rustle of sheets and smiled at Momo.

“We did make it, huh?” Momo asked, grinning.

“We did. So you can slow down and move on to other things. As long as you’re happy.” Mina returned to her game and Momo lied back down, resting her head on the penguin plushy by Mina’s pillow.

“As long as we’re happy, huh?”

Momo snapped out of her reverie. The break had gone on long enough. She clapped her hands to grab everyone’s attention. “Alright, let’s get back to it guys.” There was a variety of responses, but Momo paid extra attention to the kids who were getting up without any noise or complaint. She made a mental note to follow up on those kids.

Momo moved to the side to observe the trainees. She liked the side view of dance performances. Formations were more clear and she could better observe the transitions.

One of the smaller trainees quickly shuffled to the center position to begin her part, and the rest of the group smoothly moved around her. It was clean and there wasn’t anything to nitpick about this time. This next batch of idols was looking debut ready, and Momo smiled at the thought.

Even though she wasn’t in the middle of the room dancing with them, Momo couldn’t help but feel satisfied.

…

Tzuyu found it more tiring to wear a mask in China, compared to Korea.

As a part of Twice, she was allowed to be the quiet, foreign beauty. She spoke rarely in interviews because she the more talkative members were happy to speak on behalf of the group. She could be the silent support and also the savage maknae in rare instances.

But alone, she had to play all of the roles. She was still the quiet beauty. But now she had to be the designated speaker who explained the song. She had to be the funny member who was always ready with a response. She had to be the social butterfly who could talk to any host. She had to be the entertainer.

The problem was she didn’t really believe she could be any of these people. Couldn’t wear all these masks.  

And it was incredibly hard at first. She fumbled all the time in interviews for the first few months. Tzuyu would often sit in her van and wish that she could just stop being an idol until the China-Korea tensions blew over. But she remembered that she had to carry the Twice flag in China. The last thing she wanted to do was bring shame to their group.

So she went back to her apartment and practiced. Sana, and Dahyun called frequently to give tips on how to navigate all the conversations.

“You need to pick up the cues that the MCs drop,” Sana wisely advised. “They’re pros at making things interesting. As long as you can identify what the leading question is, you can say almost anything and the MCs will take it and run.”

So Tzuyu did research whenever she had planned interviews. She ended up watching lots of clips of Sana’s variety appearances (and she would never tell her unnie that she had done this). She did her best to match questions to the responses Sana gave. After an hour of watching Sana, Tzuyu began to see the connections: what questions were asking for stories, how to recognize when MCs were throwing her a bone to work with, and when to act confused for the sake of being cute.

In a TV show appearance, one MC asked her a difficult question about her home life, and Tzuyu had been a little too sleep deprived to understand. So she started speaking in Korean and stopped herself to make herself appear flustered. The MCs laughed and Tzuyu blamed it on the long time she had spent in Korea. It was cute and managed to avoid a personal question.

Later Sana texted her a series of wink emojis and Tzuyu sent her some vomiting ones in return. Sana’s reply made Tzuyu tear up in appreciation.

“Steal as many of my lines as you need <3”

Where Sana had offered shortcuts and cheats, Dahyun’s suggestion was more of a solution. “You fake it until you make it,” Dahyun had said simply. Tzuyu trusted her advice the most. The pale girl had mastered the craft of displaying an extroverted persona while maintaining her introversion behind closed doors. “Find small things that you think you can do well. And then dial it up to ten!”

The next interview was with Jackson, and Tzuyu was relieved to have a friend to help her. Jackson told Tzuyu that they could bounce off of each other. He shared how he often played up his JYP loyalty and competitiveness to attract attention. Together, they formulated a quick plan.

The interview started off easily enough. Tzuyu and Jackson easily answered the questions about their upcoming performances and releases. But as the discussion became looser, Tzuyu found it harder to keep up. But Jackson had assured her that he would drop an opening, and Tzuyu quietly bided her time for that moment.

Jackson started a tangent on how thankful he was to JYP. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m his real son,” Jackson mentioned. “He really gives me a lot of attention even from Korea.”

Tzuyu took a quick breath. “Hey, you know he has a son already r-right?” Tzuyu said a little awkwardly. She suppressed a flinch, but Jackson was there to pick up the slack. He swiftly turned his head towards Tzuyu and pretended to act annoyed. He quickly captured the attention and gave a reaction large enough that everyone missed Tzuyu’s stumble.

“It’s just an expression Tzuyu, I’m just joking.”

“Yah, have you even thought about your own father? Don’t forget your roots!” Tzuyu lightly scolded.

Jackson immediately stood up and looked into the camera with determination. “Hey! I’m a great son. I didn’t forget my roots!”

“Aish, I’d never want a son like you!” Tzuyu teased.

The MCs and the audience seemed to be quiet for an eternity, and Tzuyu clenched her fists in worry. But then everyone burst into laughter and complimented Tzuyu while continuing to joke with Jackson. She nodded and let out a small breath she had been holding. Jackson patted her shoulder and winked at her.

Dahyun had suggested she turn up her savage maknae personality and become a bit of a no-nonsense figure. “You have plenty of experience with dealing with nonsense from yours truly anyways,” she said. It’s a little bit risky, and she would have to learn how to avoid on accidentally stepping on any toes.

But it was a start. And her entertainment persona began to feel like a shield to defend instead of a mask to hide behind.

Tzuyu later ended up treating Jackson to a meal, and then calling Dahyun. The leader of the School Meal Club had smiled and said she had watched the show online.

“I really need you to come onto my show. If you keep up that persona, we’ll have great chemistry the next time we’re together.”

Tzuyu could feel herself glowing from the overt praise. “Thanks unnie.”

“No problem…yah and tell Jackson to back off! I saw that wink. He better not be flirting!”

…

Sana hadn’t expected to get into acting of all things. Sure, she was one of the more vocal members of Twice, but she tended to fallback on her cutie-sexy act that would sweep the floor from underneath male and female fans. It was expected that she would follow Dahyun and go into variety.

Then she was casted for a web drama. And she had a single scene where she had cried over the death of her lover to some evil spy. While she let the fake tears do their work and did her best to look miserable, she felt a sense of discomfort. This wasn’t the Sana she was used to being. But when the drama aired and she watched a broken woman mourn the loss of her boyfriend, she realized how she had been pigeonholing herself for so long. Cutie-sexy was just two dimensions of the multidimensional Sana Minatozaki.

There was so much more to show the world that an idol could not. In the idol world, you always had to be smiling. The masks they wore were meant to make fans forget about anything else.

Sana was suddenly expressing a range of emotions she was told for a long time to keep sealed and hidden. She was sad. She got angry. She was cruel. She was still cute and sexy. It was so freeing. When she didn’t have to follow strict choreography in high heels, she found brand new ways to express herself. _Actors and idols aren’t all that different_ , she thought. _The real difference is that actors are allowed to do more though than just smile._

It was a chilly afternoon when Sana was finishing her latest call with Tzuyu. Since the actress had been busy getting makeup done, she FaceTimed Tzuyu to update her about her new drama and the next scene she was going to film.

“Is your co-actress cute at least?”

“Oh she’s adorable Tzuyu! She’s like 11 years old but she tries so hard to act like a professional. She reminds me of you.”

She could see Tzuyu pout and the identicalness between their maknae and her co-actress was simply too much. Sana accidentally dropped her phone from laughing too hard and she heard a whine from the other side.

“Hopefully you spare the poor girl from your crushing hugs. I hope the mother knows that her daughter may not be coming back without some broken bones,” Tzuyu retaliated.

“Yah, she’ll love my hugs. I’m going to be caressing her dead body after all, so she’ll be trying her best to resist squealing from joy.”

“I always knew your hugs would one day kill someone.”

“Aish you’re such a tsundere! I bet you don’t even miss my hugs over there.” The phone went silent and Sana felt a sense of shame come over her. She was painfully reminded of the fact that she hadn’t been able to hold Tzuyu in over a year. “I-I’m sorry Tzuyu that was insensitive of me…”

“I do miss your hugs unnie,” Tzuyu finally spoke up. “When I come back, I promise you can hug me as often as you like.” Sana was surprised to hear Tzuyu admit how much she enjoyed the affection. _I guess distance does make the heart grow fonder_.

“Mm I’ll hold you to that promise Chou Tzuyu. Anyways, I’m up next. I’ll text you after my scene! And don’t forget to eat well before your performance tonight!”

“You’re sounding like Jihyo now. Yes, mom. Bye! Love you!”

“Love you too!” Tzuyu hung up and Sana sighed contently. She checked the mirror to ensure that she wasn’t crying, and then went out to film.

The filming was going pretty well. Sana was a professional and had memorized all her lines. And it’s not like her co-actress had to do too much considering that she was dead for a good portion of it. Finally, the two were filming a heartbreaking scene where Sana cradled the younger girl’s body and mourned.

“Cut!” The director shouted. “Sana, you’ve been doing great, but is it possible to bring out a little more emotion for this scene?”

Sana quietly huffed but nodded. “Will do director. Could I just have a moment to figure this out?”

The director nodded and the crew began to disperse a little to stretch and get drinks. Her co-actress smiled cutely and ran towards her mom. Sana gave her a cute wave and then sat down on the set to think. She needed to channel this emotion from somewhere. But where? She didn’t have any deceased family to think about, and she was an only child. Fortunately, Sana didn’t have a lot of experience with loss. If only she had a real little sister to grieve…

Suddenly, an image of Tzuyu popped up in her mind. It was from their last movie hangout a week before Tzuyu had left for China, and two weeks before the announcement. She couldn’t stop the pang in her heart from the thought that this was the last mental image she had of Tzuyu. FaceTime could never do the Taiwanese beauty justice.

_Of course,_ Sana thought. She may have grown up as an only child, but she had eight wonderful sisters. One of whom she missed desperately. It had been difficult not to complain and storm into the Blue House herself to force the President to end the travel ban. Though she was more vocal as a half-actress, there was still things she couldn’t easily criticize or complain about in public without causing some scandal or controversy.

It was only after Tzuyu’s absence that Sana could really understand what the younger was going through during the flag controversy around their debut time. The girl was quiet and scarred for many years afterwards and Sana could now comprehend how helpless the girl must have felt. And at the age of 16! The world wasn’t always fair.

When the crew came back and she had to redo the scene, Sana did her best to imagine Tzuyu’s face on the little girl’s head. The tears came easily and there was a sense of melancholy that she had been professionally shelving for a long time. The unfairness gave her the strength to yell. The pity towards a young girl losing her chance to fully express herself made her shed tears. The depression of no longer having a sister by her side placed unseen weight upon her shoulders.

Sana dug deep into her emotions and let the camera capture all of it. This scene was her only way of protesting and showing the world how sad it was that Tzuyu could not be with her today.

The scene finished, but the studio was so quiet that the director almost forgot to call cut at the end. Sana still had tears in her eyes. Her young co-actress looked up sadly, and brushed the tears aside. Sana couldn’t help but smile in response and insisted she was okay. She took another breather to calm herself down, and quickly sent Tzuyu a heart during that time.

She thought back to how her life as an actress was different from her life as an idol. There was still a mask to be worn, behind which she must hide her feelings and opinions. But now she didn’t always have to smile. And she could show the world how it felt to have her youngest sister torn from her side.

…

Tzuyu’s solo career was filled with many firsts. Obviously, many of these firsts came in the form of a first solo show, first solo award, etc. They were what she expected when she agreed to branch out on her own.

What she had hoped was that her members would be by her side to experience many of these firsts with her, just as they had when they first debuted. Some of Tzuyu’s fondest memories involved firsts.

Nayeon had been the first member of the group to try for a solo album. She had been a mess of stress and tears when she received her first music show award. All of the girls had gone to support Nayeon for her first win, and they took a beautiful group photo that Tzuyu had hung up in her room back home.

Tzuyu’s first win had a single phone call. She had received a great honor as a rising star in China, and Tzuyu couldn’t help but feel incredibly proud of herself. None of the members could be there obviously, so they all got together and did a group call. And while it was a call full of love, it couldn’t make up for not having their physical presences by her side as she celebrated her award alone. It dampened her high a bit.

After a while, she started feeling a little sad. She’d readily trade away any personal pride in her achievements for having others to celebrate them with. What was the point of receiving accolades if you couldn’t share them? It caused a bit of a lull in her motivation. She was still working her butt off, but the desire to do more had been lost.

Tzuyu didn’t want any new firsts without the other members of Twice. She wanted these occasions to be perfect.

In spite of her drop in drive, she did her best to keep it to herself. No point in bringing up things that people can’t help her with. Although Tzuyu was starting to realize that her unnies had a knack for uncovering and solving her issues no matter how difficult they may be.

She had been chatting with Momo, who was eager to share the news about some of her upcoming opportunities. The Japanese woman had been recently hosting some workshops for the public, and plenty of people were interested in showing up.

“Honestly, I’m super happy there wasn’t that many people. If this was like a few years ago, I don’t think there’d be a dance space big enough for all the people and fans.”

“Yeah,” Tzuyu agreed while idly sitting on her bed. “Imagine one of those Tokyo domes filled with people trying to learn the dance to Yes or Yes.”

Momo giggled. “That’d be a nightmare. Even if I love dancing, that’s way too many moving limbs.”

“If you keep doing a good job, I’m sure you can fill a stadium in Korea with all the people who want to dance as well as you do.”

Momo comically dropped her jaw. “No no no! That’s too many people!”

“If anyone can do it, it’s you unnie,” Tzuyu said determinedly. “You gotta think big!”

“Mm I guess. But I’m gonna take it one class at a time for now.”

Tzuyu scrunched up her face. “You mean, there’s no more plans yet?”

Momo shook her head. “There’s no plans. Period. I’m gonna see how this goes before I plan the next step. It’s just the first one anyways.”

“But unnie, if you don’t plan out the next steps, how are you going to guarantee the next workshop is a success? Aren’t you a little anxious about making sure this goes perfectly?”

“Maybe. But I’ve noticed that I get too distracted when I think too hard about the past or the future. I’m more comfortable just tackling what’s in front of me, you know? I leave the planning to people like you, Jihyo and Jeongyeon.”

Tzuyu was amazed. But she shouldn’t be so surprised. Momo always had a gift for keeping things simple.

“Mm, one more question Momo. Did any of the other members show up?”

Momo squinted as she attempted to recall the occasion. Tzuyu bit back her retort about Momo growing old and forgetful.

“Oh, Mina tried to come, but I think she saw the sign-up list and got intimidated. You know how she is.”

“Weren’t you sad that no one showed up for your first workshop?”

Momo smiled easily. “Honestly I was thinking too much about the lesson that I didn’t even think of the others. Oh well. I’m sure they’ll make it to some lessons later.”

Tzuyu nodded and agreed. She made the older promise to teach her some moves from her latest workshop. The two exchanged goodbyes before Tzuyu hung up and lied back down in bed. Momo made it look so straightforward that Tzuyu felt silly for even worrying about it.

The older girl was always living in the present. She was looking forward but never thinking too far ahead. Always using her extensive experience but never looking back. There was a middle ground to be struck with all of this of course – she suspected Momo’s lack of proper preparation was one reason Jeongyeon had pushed so hard to move out.

But the girl saw firsts for what they were: the first of many. Or a few. But it was just the iteration that came before the others. There was no need to obsess with making things memorable or perfect when there were plenty of chances in the future.

After contemplating Momo’s wisdom (and getting over her own surprise for doing so), Tzuyu got out of bed. She’s been putting off some plans and projects. It was time to engage in more firsts. They weren’t milestones to fixate over. They were beginnings to start.

…

 “Cut! Take five!”

Upon the director’s call, seven girls collapsed in exhaustion. Sana and Momo fell into a pile amongst themselves, Nayeon was desperately chugging water, and Dahyun was in the back screaming “my leg!”. Twice had been busy filming numerous takes for their comeback. Their first comeback in the entire year. And their first comeback without Chou Tzuyu.

While everyone else was preoccupied with catching their breath, Jeongyeon quickly ran forward to the camera to monitor their dance. It was a bit weird to balance both dancing and directing, but she had been very interested in directing one of their music videos and adding her own spin. Thankfully, her assistant director was much more experienced, and she could direct the scenes during filming through him.

“Jeongyeon, I’m going to kill you if I have blisters on my feet,” Sana yelled from the floor. Jeongyeon rolled her eyes good-naturedly. The assistant director suggested one more take, spotting a few errors in some of the transitions. Jeongyeon agreed readily and asked for a few minutes to relax before the next take.

Upon receiving a thumbs up, she walked back to the rest of the group, and dodged an empty water bottle thrown her way by an enervated Chaeyoung.

“I wouldn’t have agreed to this comeback had I known Jeongyeon would be putting us through hell,” Chaeyoung whined.

“Please,” Dahyun interjected from her area on the floor. “You’ve been dying for a Twice comeback all year. We’ve all been.”

“It’s just hard to find a time in between ITZY comebacks,” Jihyo added. “They seem to have picked up our hellish schedule.” A chorus of sympathy towards their juniors could be heard from all the girls.

“Actually,” Chaeyoung said a little sharply. “I wanted to wait for Tzuyu.”

A quick hush came over the group upon remembering that they were in the midst of a comeback without their maknae. Chaeyoung had been the most vocal among them about waiting until Twice was one before they returned. But the company had been adamant on having a Twice comeback at this time. Though the women had accumulated quite a bit of influence, they were still employees of JYP. The choice wasn’t left to them.

Tzuyu had of course been understanding. She wished them luck and promised to stream all of their new songs. Still, the members all felt a bit of shame for leaving Tzuyu out.

“I’m getting some air,” Chaeyoung snarled. As the youngest walked away, the rest of the members quieted down. Jeongyeon saw Jihyo beginning to get up, but Jeongyeon jumped up first.

“Is it alright if I talk to her?” Jeongyeon asked politely. Jihyo was surprised, but smiled and nodded.

Jeongyeon found the girl scribbling furiously on her notepad while sitting on a chair in an empty dressing room. The pocket notepad had been a gift from Tzuyu before she had left, because she noticed that Chaeyoung would sometimes be itching to draw during downtime.

“Hey,” Jeongyeon called out from the door. Chaeyoung gave her a look that would deter most people, but Jeongyeon just smirked back and Chaeyoung quickly relented.

“I already know I’m being upset for no reason. Save the cheer up speech.”

“Actually, I just wanted to ask you a question. Do you remember when we finally moved out of the dorm and got separate apartments?”

Chaeyoung’s expression shifted to one of confusion. “Yeah. You were so happy that you wouldn’t have to clean Momo’s crumbs off her bed every morning that I thought you would cry in relief.”

Jeongyeon smiled a little sadly. She strolled over to Chaeyoung’s seat on the chair, and leaned on the counter across from it. “You know, I never wanted us to live apart. I went along with it because everyone else was excited. But I would’ve been happy to live in that dorm with you guys forever.”

Chaeyoung’s mouth fell open in surprise. “Oh…you should’ve said so! I was also a little nervous, but at least I had Dahyun and Tzuyu still. Why didn’t you ask to live with Nayeon or Jihyo?”

“Because…you ever hear that cheesy saying about how if you love something, you should be able to let it go?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I wrote lyrics about that for at least five songs. God why do people love listening to songs about breakups. They love listening to metaphors about cages and birds.”

“Anyways,” Jeongyeon said, steering the conversation back on topic. “It’s something similar here. I wanted to stay in that dorm forever. But it didn’t make sense for our careers to keep living together. Different schedules. Growing up and wanting different things. Mina becoming obsessed with decorating and driving Nayeon insane with the amount of knitted covers on everything.”

“Honestly I was also getting sick of it.”

“I know right? But the living-together-thing is just one example. I wanted everyone to truly be free to do what they want. Sana’s acting career wouldn’t have gone anywhere if we keep dragging her into comebacks. Dahyun wouldn’t have a show if she kept spending weeks out of the country at times. And I think Mina would’ve gone insane if she had to continue being in the public eye forever.

The point is that I refused to be a stopgap in everyone’s lives just because I wanted a little more time with everybody. I think we all wanted the extra room to spread our wings. House-wise and career-wise. We shouldn’t stop each other from doing so.”

“Are you implying that Tzuyu is holding me back?” There was an aggressive glint in Chaeyoung’s eyes. Fortunately, Jeongyeon had become a pro at recognizing the signs of a tiger ready to pounce.

“No,” Jeongyeon said calmly while holding Chaeyoung’s shoulder. “I think you’re holding yourself back. I think Tzuyu wants to be here, and we want her. But she would hate to think that we’re putting our lives on hold for her.”

Chaeyoung was caught off guard, and she shifted her gaze downwards. She had to admit to herself that Jeongyeon was stating facts. Tzuyu would absolutely have prioritized their happiness and careers, and would surely be upset that Chaeyoung hasn’t let go of the fact that she wasn’t there. As much as Chaeyoung knew Tzuyu wanted to be here, she knew that the only thing that would stop Tzuyu from coming home was if it would be the best for the group. The girl was just too loyal.

“I’m not saying we leave Tzuyu behind. No one in the group feels that way at all. But let’s stop worrying so much about Tzuyu missing out. We’re allowed to make memories and keep going forward without her.”

“But I want to make them with her. More memories.” Chaeyoung quietly wishes.

Jeongyeon pats Chaeyoung’s head. “I promise I’ll direct another music video for our full comeback. With Tzuyu. And I’ll be a much better director then. But until that day comes, let’s not waste our time, okay? You, me, and the rest of the girls have a lot of cool things we’re going to show the world. Let’s stop holding back.”

Chaeyoung nodded and Jeongyeon easily pulled the smaller girl into an embrace. While they held the hug for a minute, Nayeon popped into the room, shouted “gay,” and then told the girls to be ready in five minutes to shoot again.

Jeongyeon released the younger girl to stick her tongue at Nayeon. She softly patted Chaeyoung’s butt, and Chaeyoung whined a little before jogging out of the room to get back to the set.

“You know,” Nayeon starts, with a mischievous smile. “My offer still stands.”

Jeongyeon scoffed. “I don’t know. I can’t focus on directing if I have to spend all night cleaning up half-eaten food in the fridge.”

Nayeon whined loudly, and tried to slap Jeongyeon’s arm. Jeongyeon caught Nayeon’s hand, and shifted her fingers to intertwine them with Nayeon’s. Nayeon rolled her eyes, and began dragging Jeongyeon towards the set.

Truthfully, Jeongyeon had also wanted Tzuyu to participate in her first directed music video. But she had accepted earlier that time was precious and they need not stop living their lives waiting for the perfect moment. There were plenty of music videos and memories to make later.

…

As time went on, Tzuyu grew more comfortable being in China. She desperately wanted to return to Korea of course, but she was getting used to being alone and working solo. With the assistance of her managers and her members at home, she could take on any challenge alone.

But there was something that always bothered her. She knew that she had been gone from Korea for a very long time. And inevitably, Twice had to release something. Kpop fans were fickle, and even a major group like Twice needed to send some reminders of their existence.

So Twice had a comeback. Without Tzuyu. She assured the members that it was alright: they had to do what was necessary to keep the Twice name strong, and she would support them from China. There was nothing else to be done.

But it really did hurt. The new song was amazing, and she had spent an entire weekend learning the song and practicing the choreography on her own. Hopefully Momo could redo the formations to fit her in for their tour performances once Tzuyu could return. It had been a long time, but Tzuyu never stopped hoping for the end of the travel ban.

Instead, a new fear had arisen. There was a sudden movement among ONCE, particularly the newer ones.

OT8.

She hadn’t expected three characters to instill such terror. Jihyo had called her, and assured her that this was just because newer Twice fans were not aware that Tzuyu was a member. They would never want to be a group without her. The other members all took the time to comfort her, and Tzuyu appreciated them for checking in on her.

But she still couldn’t help the pang in her heart when she looked through Twitter hashtags. The fans capturing the moments she could not physically take part in. Fan wars taking place between people who cared about Tzuyu’s inclusion. She caught herself multiple times surfing the Internet for long periods of time and spiraling into a hole of depression.

Eventually Mina told her that there was something she could do. The Japanese maknae had been busy handling her own social media and talking to the fans. She said that Tzuyu could do something similar. Tzuyu wasn’t big on social media. To be fair, China wasn’t big on net neutrality. But she decided to make an Instagram anyways. Hopefully they don’t care about a single Chinese fan of Twice.

Her Instagram was quickly one of the largest on the platform amongst her Asian peers. She started with a selfie, and was wowed by the mix of mostly positive and a few negative comments. Tzuyu posted a picture of the album cover of Twice’s newest release. Fans flooded the post with requests to come back and wishes of good health. Tzuyu found the new wave of positivity a refreshing splash following her deep dive into the fan wars.

The next day she posted a video of herself dancing to the new song. The post blew up on Twitter and for a moment Tzuyu feared that this was going to incite another scandal. While she was considering taking the video down, she noticed eight new tags at the same time. She clicked on them, and it was eight separate posts, all sharing Tzuyu’s newest album cover, by the other members of Twice. Each post had a single word for the description.

#OT9.

Tzuyu was reminded that she had eight other people who were willing to fight their own fanbase on her behalf. She has grown a lot, and she could take any challenge on her own. But now Tzuyu was sure that she never tackled any problem alone. 

…

 “Hello! Welcome to Intro to Idol! I am your host, Twice’s Dahyun.”

Dahyun had always been one of the more talkative members when it came to interviews and variety performances. It only made sense to leverage her onscreen skills and pursue hosting and variety. And now Dahyun was given her own show to host, modeled after her time cohosting for Weekly Idol.

Intro to Idol was a way to combine the more intimate conversation with more silly shenanigans. While the beginning of the show focused on digging into some more interesting conversations, the latter half encouraged idols to show their more competitive or silly sides with ridiculous games. It merged the serious and goofy sides of Dahyun, and she enjoyed the chance to allow other idols to shine.

“Today, I’m joined by a junior of mine from JYP. She’s part of the super trendy girl group, JUNCI, and is their formidable leader. Please welcome Sowon!” Dahyun applauded while doing a silly dance in which she hopped from one foot to another. Sowon entered shyly, bowing and trying not to laugh at Dahyun’s shenanigans.

“Keep it simple! Hello, I am JUNCI’s Sowon.”

“Ah thank you for joining me Sowon! JUNCI debuted almost a year ago, and you guys have been working really hard. Congrats again on your first win last week! How did that feel?”

“Thank you for having me sunbaenim! It’s truly an honor and we really couldn’t have done it without the support of our fans. Oh, and of course, our unnies in Twice!”

“Aw shucks! I didn’t even do anything. You should probably thank Momo unnie for the choreo though,” Dahyun teased. They continued to make lighthearted conversation while Sowon started to discuss her group and introduce their album. Sowon offhandedly mentioned how this was their first album with some of their self-composed tracks.

“Wait wait wait! You guys have your own songs in here?” Dahyun quickly pulled out her signed copy of the album. Rookies tended to be more robotic in following scripts provided by their company. So Dahyun was always hunting for small details to expand upon.

She saw Sowon’s eyes sparkle a little. Her junior turned towards her manager as if to ask permission. _Bingo!_

“You have to tell me more! We wrote a few songs ourselves back in the day but never the title track. Was it just lyrics?”

Sowon, feeling more confident from Dahyun’s interest, began talking about not just the writing of the lyrics but the composing and production that she and another member had participated in. Dahyun then brought in her own experience from composing and piano playing. She deftly probed Sowon for more and more details while simultaneously explaining the more complicated concepts to the viewers at home.

Soon, Sowon was relaxed and eagerly discussing what it was like to work with the other producers and staff at JYP. Dahyun saw the PD gesturing to move on from the corner of her eye, and gave an eye smile to Sowon – her cue to the PD that she was going to wrap up this topic.

“You have so many great ideas Sowon! You should really try discussing music on a Vlive sometime. I’m sure the fans would love it.” Dahyun smoothly concluded.

“Ah I will, thanks sunbaenim! To be honest, I’m a little worried about this album.”

“Oh really? I’ve taken a listen myself and it’s really good in my opinion!”

“That means a lot, thanks! I’m sure our title track will do well since Chaeyoung-sunbae wrote it, but I’m scared of the fans not liking our B-sides. They never seem to get that much positive attention in Korea.”

“I totally understand,” Dahyun agreed. “It sometimes feels like they’re only interested in the title track and whatever dance we put out. But the B-sides are really where we get to pour our souls into.”

“Exactly!” Sowon was getting fired up and Dahyun grinned at the girl’s enthusiasm. “And since this album has our first self-produced songs, I hope that the fans and critics will not be too harsh.” Sowon looked at the comments and gave it her best puppy eyes.

“Ah how cute!” Dahyun exclaimed. “But it’s true that it’s disheartening at times to read the negative comments. Twice had and still has its fair amount of critics. A lot of them would tell me that I couldn’t sing or dance well, but I always tried to see it from their perspective. They only see me perform and only have that to think of. But I know how much practice I put in and how many years of training I went through. So I think it’s best not to hold it against them.”

Dahyun had become used to the complaints over the years. No matter how much you improve, people will always find flaws.

Sowon hanging onto every word. “So you just ignored them?”

“Well usually yeah. We would never want these anti-fans to know if they hurt us, cause then they’ll just keep doing it.”

“I find myself okay if they criticize me to be honest,” Sowon said. “But when they are mean and slander my members, I get so mad. Should I stay quiet even then?”

Dahyun paused to think. She wasn’t leader, so she could not fathom how Jihyo felt over the years as the representative of their group. She did her best not to let the criticism affect her: she knew she didn’t sing as well as Nayeon or dance as well as Momo. But she knew her role and the love from her members never gave her room for self-doubt to propagate.

Suddenly, she remembered some of the comments she and Chaeyoung had been reading about Twice following their recent comeback. They always kept a finger on the pulse of the comments and feedback. Jihyo had brought up her concern over some fans preferring the eight members without Tzuyu; the OT8 movement.

Obviously this had outraged all the members, and Dahyun realized how seriously upset Sowon and Jihyo probably were. How hard would it be stay calm and ignore people who dared to say Tzuyu was no longer a part of Twice. She bit her lip at the anger she was abruptly feeling.

“That’s a great question Sowon,” Dahyun started. There was an edge to her voice, and Sowon leaned back a little in surprise. “Back when we were younger, we, Twice, didn’t really tend to address the fans about these kinds of things. We preferred to show our solidarity rather than tell people off.

“But I think there are times you need to speak up. It obviously depends on the situation, but I have a bone to pick with some of the netizens out there.” Dahyun directed her attention to her close-up cam. “There’s been some people talking about Twice as an eight-member group. And they say that they believe this version of Twice is the best.

“First of all, thank you for enjoying our latest comeback. Second of all, this is not Twice at its best. Our ninth member, Tzuyu, is stuck in China due to the recent tensions between Korea and China. She’s incredibly talented, and I’ve been watching her kill it in China. Her singing keeps improving, and she’s very funny and savage on TV. She’s as important a member of Twice as I am.

You’re allowed to say that you think our recent comeback is your favorite. What you aren’t allowed to say is that Twice should become eight. That Twice is better without Tzuyu. We don’t just love Tzuyu – we need her. If you stan Twice, you stan Tzuyu. Please don’t pretend she doesn’t exist. Please don’t call yourself ONCE if you don’t want Tzuyu.” Dahyun pointed two fingers at the camera, doing her best to establish that she was talking directly to her fans. “We are nine. Please don’t forget.”

For a second there was silence in the studio. Even the staff hadn’t expected Dahyun to address the audience so sternly. Even Dahyun started to feel a bit embarrassed at having gone off like that.

But Sowon was only impressed. “Wow sunbaenim! That was so cool of you!” Dahyun could only scratch her neck awkwardly.

“Ah, sorry Sowon! I didn’t mean to take attention away from you. We can edit this part out.” Dahyun made the scissor motion with her fingers to indicate a cut.

“Actually, that was pretty good Dahyun,” the PD admitted. “Let’s keep it. Just keep going.”

Dahyun was surprised that the PD would allow her to be a little rude, but she quickly recomposed herself. “Well I think that’s enough about some of the serious parts of idol life. It’s time to move on to our games section. Tell me, Sowon…have you ever tried giant jenga without your hands?”

The show continued and Dahyun shifted a little into autopilot. She briefly pondered if that was the appropriate action to have taken. Dahyun was rarely confrontational, preferring to always project a cheerful and positive outlook. But she thought about some of the comments she had read with the group earlier this week. And she considered how Tzuyu had to read these OT8 comments alone, even if the members called everyday to assure her otherwise.

How can she pretend everything was fine? As the leader of the School Meal Club, she had to defend Tzuyu’s reputation. Tzuyu was valiantly out in China, fighting alone as a member of Twice. If Tzuyu was brave enough to that, the least Dahyun should do is defend her back at home.  

…

Chaeyoung remembered a stretch of time when she rarely got lines in songs. Even in their older years, they tended not to go into the darker, more mature themes that could truly showcase her style of rapping. So she would get a small rap she would share with Dahyun and only get chances to sing on their B-sides. It was very demotivating to spend hours of the day getting ready only to say a few lines in a song and essentially act as a backup dancer the rest of it.

She remembered complaining to Tzuyu about never getting enough lines on the title track, and Tzuyu would encourage her to keep practicing and always try to give the shorter girl her own lines. But Tzuyu had improved immensely since debut and deserved all the lines she got, so Chaeyoung never accepted of course. She reminisced on how she would have given anything back then to just get more time to sing.

Now that there only eight of them for comebacks, she got many times more lines than she used to. Now that they were doing sub-units and solos, she could show off her rap prowess and her vocal growth.

But she’d give it all back if it meant Tzuyu would come back to sing with them.

Hell, she’d accept being a backup dancer in Twice if Tzuyu could be dancing next to her. But there was nothing she could do to warp Tzuyu to Korea. She had to find other ways to help. The unnies had done a good job at giving advice: Chaeyoung was the same age as Tzuyu, so it wasn’t like they had too much of a gap in experience.

So Chaeyoung primarily focused on aiding in the one area Tzuyu felt weak in: writing music. Chaeyoung found herself passing on many songs to Tzuyu. The translation to Chinese needed outside assistance and not every Korean cultural norm had a Chinese equivalent, but Tzuyu never turned down a song from Chaeyoung no matter how much additional work went into it. Except for that one time Chaeyoung wrote a diss track against the OT8 fans. Tzuyu rolled her eyes and protested that Korean fans further alienate her if she tried to release the song. 

Chaeyoung published it on her personal soundcloud anyways and it blew up. Jihyo and JYP gave her a stern talk but Chaeyoung could see the amusement dancing in Jihyo’s eyes. 

Though she had quickly become one of the best composers in JYP, Chaeyoung struggled for a long time too. She had become an idol at such a young age, and spent a few years beforehand training. It was hard to write cotton-candy-sweet love songs when there wasn’t a lot of personal experience to draw from. Her first songs, which she would label embarrassing, were very childish and pretty superficial.

But recently, her songs had been more serious. They were probing for something deeper beyond puppy love. Personally, she blamed/thanked Tzuyu for the inspiration. The best friends were unaccustomed to being apart before Tzuyu became stuck in China. She found that she could interchange the feelings associated with her missing her best friend to how one might feel about a lost lover. It made for some particularly melodramatic songs that did well as ballads.

Nayeon actually achieved a perfect all kill using one of these songs. The older thanked her profusely, then made fun of her for being an incredible softie. Chaeyoung had protested and said she wasn’t the cute baby of the group anymore (“Unnie I have a rap mixtape! Softies don’t have mixtapes!” “They do when they still rap about strawberries!”).

Songwriting was an important way for Chaeyoung to sort out her feelings. And she had been feeling some unfamiliar emotions since Tzuyu had been absent from their lives. These days, she found herself churning out song after song. There was just so much to articulate and so many ways to do so.

Tonight was one of those occasions where Chaeyoung was practically composing a movie score amounts of lyrics. Chaeyoung had been writing in the living room when Dahyun came back late. She looked exhausted, and Chaeyoung got up to give the older a hug and a cup of warm tea.

“Thanks Chae,” Dahyun affectionately mumbled. “You should go to bed. You didn’t need to wait for me.”

“Nah, I was up anyways writing a song.”

“Mm, can I read?”

Chaeyoung silently handed Dahyun the notepad she had been scribbling on. Dahyun noted the various doodles around the page and she stored it in her head for teasing material later.

“I’ve been feeling a bit moody today,” Chaeyoung explained as Dahyun carefully combed the song while sipping on her tea. “It’s been like two years since we’ve seen Tzuyu and I guess that feeling of missing her ended up inspiring some cheesy lines. What do you think?”

Dahyun made a disgusted face. “There’s enough cheese on here to make up the moon Chae.”

Chaeyoung laughed loudly. “It’s gonna be a megahit then!”

They high-fived and Dahyun returned the song. Dahyun started walking away to take off her make up.

“Which group do you think this would suit?” Chaeyoung calls to Dahyun’s back. “ITZY would probably kill it, but maybe if it’s too dreamy, one of the rookies should take it?”

Dahyun paused by the bathroom. “Actually Chae…” Chaeyoung could easily hear the shit-eating grin on Dahyun’s face. “Save this for yourself. It’d make a nice confession song.”

The door closed, and Chaeyoung was left confused. Who was she supposed to confess to?

…

Tzuyu made her way inside her managing company’s building. Though the company tried to have a manager on her as often as possible, Tzuyu had recently been preferring to travel alone. It was more efficient and she had a good enough handle on her schedule by now that she only really needed her manager for administrative tasks.

So this meeting was quite a surprise and when her manager had called her telling her the details, Tzuyu had to bite back some of her more savage tendencies. She had to learn the choreo for her next song and do some research on the hosts she would be meeting for a brief variety appearance tomorrow. This had better be worth disturbing her well-organized week.

She didn’t get her shit together for people to just arbitrarily interfere with her schedule.

Tzuyu had expected the usual bunch of executives and secretaries in the meeting room when she walked in. What she didn’t expect was to see Jackson and some other idols sitting around a table. Most surprising of all was the man sitting at the head of the table.

JYP himself.

Eyes nearly falling out of her head, Tzuyu caught herself before tripping and managed to pull off a quick bow and Korean greeting. The language already felt rusty when she heard herself, and she glared at Jackson, who was silently laughing.

“Good to see you Tzuyu,” JYP kindly said. He had gotten a lot older since the last time she saw him, and she hoped that the flight wasn’t too straining on his health. “Now that everybody’s here, I can tell you guys the good news. But most of you have already figured out.”

Tzuyu scrunched her eyebrows in thought, before the epiphany struck her hard. JYP was here. In China. From Korea.

Jackson leaped out of his seat and fist-pumped. A couple of the other present idols were crying and quickly opening their phones. JYP leaned back in his chair, a genuine smile taking up his entire face.

Tzuyu put her face in her hands. She had worked hard to be stronger and to stop crying after she had been forced to be solo for two whole years. But now that the end was here, she couldn’t stop the well of tears that were wetting her palms.

“Let’s go back to Korea.”

…

They’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.

Over a thousand fans crowded Incheon International Airport. There was a quiet but palpable energy in the crowd. Today was the first time the beloved Chinese member of Twice would be stepping foot in Korea since the tensions between China and South Korea had heightened. Some of the newer fans present were not even avid Twice fans during the last time Tzuyu had been part of a comeback.

While fans eagerly waited by the arrivals lobby area, eight other women were standing inside by the baggage claim. Normally people who weren’t coming from recently arrived flights were not allowed. But the eight women had combined their influence to receive special permission. After all, they hadn’t seen their maknae in years. They had been eagerly chatting and waiting patiently for Tzuyu to deplane.

Though they had come excited and calm, it quickl changed once Tzuyu finally rounded the corner. She froze upon seeing the eight women patiently awaiting her. There was a second of hesitation, as if the members of Twice forgot for a moment what it was like to have all nine of them in a single room.

Tzuyu finally registered that this reunion was happening. She got to see her sisters again. They were physically right in front of her. And she dropped her bag and quickly pushed her palms against her face in a futile attempt to stop the tears she had been holding for so long.

Chaeyoung dropped the large sign she had been holding and sprinted to Tzuyu. She leaped onto Tzuyu, nearly knocking the taller woman down. But Tzuyu reacted and caught Chaeyoung in her arms. With her face buried in Tzuyu’s chest, Chaeyoung immediately started bawling.

Before Tzuyu could say anything, she was tackled by four more bodies and sent sprawling to the floor. They fell into a disorganized pile of limbs. Tzuyu could feel Sana and Nayeon kissing her cheeks, Momo ruffling her hair, and Dahyun for some reason holding onto her leg (“there wasn’t room anywhere else when I got there!”).

Jihyo, Jeongyeon, and Mina approached more calmly while wiping their silent tears away. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they got up and there was a puddle beneath them,” Jeongyeon joked.

Jihyo laughed loudly. “I don’t even think Tzuyu would mind.”

Once Tzuyu was standing and Sana was pried off of her (“I’m never letting go again!” “Unnie you need to give everyone else a turn!”), she looked at the remaining members and smiled widely. Mina gave her a simple hug and a peck on the cheek. Jeongyeon’s hug was more firm, and Tzuyu almost burst into tears again when Jeongyeon whispered that she had done well. Lastly, Jihyo came forward. She first grasped Tzuyu by the arms and looked up at her.

Though everyone in the group always looked up to her by virtue of her height, this time felt different. Jihyo carefully looked over Tzuyu. Finally seeing her in person and instead of a screen, Jihyo could truly appreciate how much the younger woman had matured over the years. There was definitely a tiredness. However, instead of seeing a timid teenager, Jihyo could tell Tzuyu had grown to be an independent woman who could stand alone. This woman was still Tzuyu, but the years alone in Taiwan and China had changed her. Jihyo felt both regret and pride for how Tzuyu had grown up.

But there was plenty of time to catch up now. Jihyo gave her hug quickly and began to guide her out of the airport. Jeongyeon had quickly grabbed the bags Tzuyu had dropped, and Sana immediately latched back onto Tzuyu, who let out a mild protest while grinning. Dahyun was walking quickly next to the two of them, catching Tzuyu up on everything she may have missed while abroad and speaking at a million words per minute. Nayeon and Momo started arguing about who would get to sit next to Tzuyu in the van ride back, while Mina’s quiet note about most car seats fitting three people went ignored.

And Chaeyoung hung back a little to observe the mess that is Twice. It had been so long since the group had felt so complete and Chaeyoung had to choke back a happy sob. She wanted to stay in this moment forever and immortalize it in her brain. Who knows when JYP would send Tzuyu back to China to continue her success there? Who knows when another member will be in a similar boat and they have to separate again? As much as she felt relief, Chaeyoung also felt anxiety.

Tzuyu briefly looked back at Chaeyoung, and raised an eyebrow in worry. Even years of separation had not dampened Tzuyu’s sensitivity to her same-year best friend. Chaeyoung shook her head to indicate she was fine, and gave Tzuyu her biggest smile. Tzuyu instinctively smiled back and her eyes twinkled with an unsaid request. It was easy for Chaeyoung to understand in spite of not seeing each other in so long.

_Come back._

And Chaeyoung ran forward to join the group as they greeted the sea of fans. Tzuyu’s jaw had dropped due to the support of the Korean fans. She feared they had forgotten about her or didn’t want her to return. Yet the loud cheers nearly brought her to her knees.

Dahyun started pushing all of them to line up and all the members lined up by age order, except for Tzuyu who had been pushed to the center. Jihyo held her in place when Tzuyu tried to walk towards the end of the line and gave her a smile that Tzuyu easily understood.

_Stay_.

Once they were in line, Nayeon shouted from the side. “Count us down!” Jeongyeon nudged her on the side and pointed out that usually they counted up, and Jihyo had to step in before they started another argument (“Not in front of Tzuyu! Act like you’ve grown up a little!”) Tzuyu merely smiled silently and waited for everyone to stop talking.

“1, 2, 3!”

The members yelled as one in response. “One in a million! Hello, we are Twice!”

And Tzuyu once against burst into tears as the members all crowded around her laughing and crying alongside her. Chaeyoung could hear the fans screaming outwardly what all the members had been keeping inside and waiting to say for years.

_Welcome home!_

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading


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